


the steady throne of restless hope

by gentleau (iwanna_seeyou_undoit)



Series: have your cake (and eat it too) [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, But Only a Little Bit - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Relationship Discussions, there is so so much fluff, they love each other so much oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 01:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16567172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwanna_seeyou_undoit/pseuds/gentleau
Summary: Harry has some questions he needs answered, and Draco has some promises he doesn't want to make.Sequel to have your cake (and eat it too)





	the steady throne of restless hope

**Author's Note:**

> Written and posted without editing, so I can only hope there are no mistakes!

“Draco,” Harry passes him a glass of wine. “We need to talk.”

Draco knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the Floo. Their living room is suspiciously devoid of Hermione or Ron (something Draco usually wouldn’t put up much fuss about, but considering they’re missing their standing weekly dinner, it’s alarming) and Harry had changed out of his work robes into… Draco’s favourite of his jumpers.

He accepts the glass reluctantly. “Oh?” The fact his voice doesn’t crack is an accomplishment to be celebrated. “About… anything in particular?” Their argument from the night before (the one where Draco had Harry convinced for _two hours_ that he’d cheated on him) is still a very fresh source of guilt for Draco and he’s not entirely convinced that Harry isn’t about to break up with him despite everything he’d said in bed last night.

Harry takes a gulp of wine, grimacing. It’s a brand of Chardonnay he doesn’t like. It’s also Draco’s favourite. “You look terrified, Draco.” It’s rather redundant, really. Draco can feel himself trembling all over. His robes are stained with the remnants of a mishap with a potion he’d been developing. His hair is sweaty and slicked against his forehead in a most unflattering arrangement. He couldn’t look _less_ appealing if he tried.

“Er…” Draco says.

Harry’s eyes are a wash of some small, delicate emotion Draco hesitates to name. He presses a kiss to Draco’s cheek and slips his hand into the small of his back. “Come sit with me?” And Draco doesn’t have much choice, does he?

Harry lets him slump against his side despite the mess of his robes, draping his arm around his neck and resting his chin in Draco’s hair. It’s warm and familiar and safe. Draco hums contentedly. Cuddling can hardly lead to anything awful, can it? Then Harry opens his mouth.

“I want us to talk about last night.” Draco stiffens immediately, pulling away from Harry’s side. Harry tightens his arm and reels him back in. “No, shh, it’s okay. I meant what I said. There is nothing to forgive, Draco. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then wh-”

The hand across his shoulders worms its way between the buttons on his robes. Warm fingers stroke over the cotton of his shirt. “I… Sweetheart, you got so upset just _thinking_ about having hurt me. It was… It was me who was in the wrong, yeah? Not trusting you and… Fuck, this is hard- And, well, it’s um, it’s clearly me who has the problem, isn’t it. No, don’t deny it, Draco, I should have talked to you about it without jumping to conclusions and accusing you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I acted like I don’t trust you. B-because I _do_ . So much, Draco. I would… I would trust you w-with _anything_.” He breaks off, burying his whole face the back of Draco’s head.

Draco stretches forward to sit his glass on the floor and squirms around in Harry’s hold until they’re face to face. “I know, Harry, look at me, I _know._ You were worried because I sent a stupid message when I was sloshed. Stop apologising for it, okay? Please.”

Harry sniffles, but maintains eye contact at least. He ducks forward to press their foreheads together, rubbing his nose against Draco’s. “Your message was’n’ stup’d,” he mumbles.

Draco shakes his head minutely. “It was. No one in their right mind would send something like that and expect to be understood.” Harry’s laugh is warm against his lips. “Is that what you wanted to talk about? About trusting me?”

He shakes his head. “I… what I said about Pansy…”

Draco cuts him off as soon as he hears where he’s going. “You know I’d never tell her.”

“Still shouldn’ve said it.”

“Maybe,” Draco kisses him softly. “I know you were just scared.”

Harry’s throat clicks as he swallows heavily. “Yeah…” He trails off, closing his eyes. Draco’s heart squeezes.

“Yes?” He prompts.

It looks as though it pains Harry to say it, but, “When I asked if you had an excuse…” Draco very much does not like where this is going. Even so, he refuses to let go of Harry. He needs to be close to him, to his impossible warmth, if this conversation goes south. “If- If this was a… a l-loveless relationshi-” he presses his lips together, then opens his eyes, wet with unshed tears. Draco is so, so scared. He wants to kiss Harry with every bone in his body. “And I know! I know that you promised me it’s not. I know that you love me, Draco, I do, but… But if you _ever_ start to feel like- like I’m trapping you here, or you don’t l-love me like you… like you used to, then will you promise to tell me?”

Draco can’t stop shaking his head. He’s too upsethorrifedworriedangryguilty _s_ _ad_ to do anything but clutch Harry to his chest, pinning his head under his chin and promising “never never never” in high pitched panic. He cannot imagine a day in his life where he won’t love Potter. Sure, he can be infuriating to be around and there are days Draco can’t stand him, but he can’t imagine not _loving him_.

“I mean it,” Harry mumbles into his chest and Draco wishes his robes could have swallowed the words before they reached his ears.

“I won’t,” he insists, pulling Harry so close he thinks he might leave bruises.

“Draco,” Harry squirms back enough to look him in the eye again. His hands come up to cup Draco’s chin, the tremor in them barely detectable. “I mean it. I believe you when you say you won’t, but if you do…”

“I won’t!”

“But if you do.”

Draco clenches his jaw around tears, around the urge to shake Harry until he takes it all back, around what he’s about to say next. Because, at the end of the day, it will satisfy that festering doubt he knows dwells deep inside Harry, that the people he loves will leave, were only ever there in the first place because of guilt, of fear, of awe, of temporary connections. “I promise. Harry, I promise.” Draco nods, face crumpling in on itself under the weight of the terrible sadness. He wishes he could take that doubt from Harry, take it into himself and keep him safesafesafe. “I won’t ever need to, but I promise.”

Harry sags into his chest, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck and clinging tight. “Good,” he says, kissing the skin under Draco’s ear. “Good. Thank you.”

Draco holds him until his legs go numb under him and he has to push Harry back to rearrange them to a more comfortable position. He kisses Harry’s hair, again and again and again, closing his eyes against the smell of his shampoo and stroking gentle thumbs over the fine bones of Harry’s wrists. “I love you,” he whispers.

Harry squirms against him, wriggling around to nose against Draco’s cheek, demanding a proper kiss. Draco gives him one, smiling into his mouth and swallowing the happy little sounds he makes. “I love you.” Harry says when they pull apart. He ducks back in to kiss the point of Draco’s chin. “You’re all dirty,” he announces. “Do you need a shower?”

Draco laughs. “You’re so horny when you’re emotional, you know that?”

Harry gives him a dirty grin. “So that’s a yes?”

Draco lets himself be pulled up and off the sofa, laughing even more when Harry’s greedy hands dive for his belt. “It’s a yes.” Harry has him naked before they’re even out of the lounge.

 


End file.
